


He Always Gets His Man

by zubeneschamali



Series: sheriff!Jensen and gunslinger!Jared [1]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Western, M/M, gunslinger!Jared, sheriff!Jensen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-08 20:47:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7772851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zubeneschamali/pseuds/zubeneschamali
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a prompt at spn_masquerade: sheriff!Jensen, gunslinger!Jared, prison cell bars, and handcuffs. That's it, that's the prompt. And the story, pretty much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He Always Gets His Man

One second. That was all the time Jensen had taken his eyes off his prisoner. Long enough to reassure himself that he'd grabbed the right ring of keys off his desk to open the cell door in front of him. But as it turned out, that was long enough to ensure he wouldn't get to use those keys.

Because Padalecki had twisted right out of his grip, folding his long frame down to duck under Jensen's arm and come up behind him, cuffed hands yanking Jensen's gun from his holster and jamming it up against the skin behind his ear before Jensen could do more than start reaching for that same weapon.

For a moment, neither of them moved. Jensen's right arm was halfway towards his now-empty holster, his left holding those damn useless keys. Padalecki wasn't even breathing hard, looming behind Jensen as if to remind him that he was even more dangerous than the weapon he now held. "Sheriff," he drawled in his Texas accent. "Told ya you couldn't hold me for long."

Jensen's heart was pounding, but his voice was blessedly strong as he replied, "Best thing for you'd be to put that gun down and get in that cell, Padalecki."

Padalecki snorted. "Just because you finally tracked me down after eight months of tryin' doesn't mean you won for good, Ackles." He trailed the end of the gun barrel down Jensen's neck, and Jensen's breath caught. Padalecki kept the gun moving, finally bringing it to rest under the point of Jensen's jaw, his cuffed hands heavy on Jensen's shoulders. "Open the cell door."

Hands surprisingly steady, Jensen reached out and turned the key in the lock. Padalecki shoved the door open and nudged the gun up under his chin. "C'mon, inside."

Jensen raised his hands in the air and shuffled inside. Padalecki grabbed his arm and spun him up against the bars of the cell. "Gimme the key."

There wasn't any use pretending that he didn't know what Padalecki was talking about. "It's on my belt."

"All right." Padalecki leaned against him, one heated line of solid muscle from shoulders to knees. "Hands up over your head. Grab the bars."

Grimacing, Jensen did as he was told, slowly reaching up to grip the bars of the cell he'd been about to deposit his prisoner into. From the small window behind him on the far side of the cell, he could hear the sounds of horses and men going about their business in town, unaware that their sheriff was in mortal danger. Damn it, if he'd only kept his eyes on the man for one second longer!

"That’s good," Padalecki purred in his ear. He pulled back far enough to fumble at the back of Jensen's belt with his cuffed hands. Jensen jerked at the feeling of hands at his waist, going still as he felt the handcuff key being removed from its pouch. 

A moment later, there was the double click of the cuffs being unlocked. Jensen tensed, readying himself to throw back an elbow and get himself free in the one moment Padalecki was distracted. 

Instead, he let out an "oof!" as Padalecki threw his full weight against him, pinning him against the bars. His fingers loosened on the ring of keys, and they went clinking to the floor on the outside of the cell. When Jensen felt metal closing around one wrist, he tried too late to fight it, unable to move the man's huge bulk. A second later, his hands were cuffed around the crossbars, arms stretched above his head, unable to move. 

There was no sound now but Jensen's increasingly faster breaths. Behind him, Padalecki was silent and unmoving, which was almost more unnerving. Jensen kept expecting to feel the gun against his head again, or worse yet, to hear the click of it being cocked. 

He knew how dangerous this man was—he'd been chasing him for months, following every lead he could find, and he'd been so thrilled to get the drop on him at his campsite. Somehow, Jensen had managed to keep him under his control for two days and a night, headed back into town.

He should've known it was too good to be true. 

A horse whinnied outside, and Jensen jumped. Padalecki's low chuckle was right in his ear. "What's the matter, Sheriff?" he murmured, hands closing over Jensen's wrists. "You seem nervous."

Padalecki's long fingers wrapped around cuffs and wrists alike, and Jensen shivered despite the heat of the man's bulk behind him. He'd watched those hands locked up tight in his handcuffs, had seen them elegantly grasp the reins of Padalecki's horse, and he would be lying if he said he hadn't wondered how they'd feel on him. "Uncuff me and I'll tell you," he replied, internally wincing when his voice caught.

"Naw, I think I like you like this." Padalecki's hands slowly moved down Jensen's arms, heat burning through Jensen's cotton shirt. He shifted closer, legs lining up behind Jensen's, and Jensen's mind was suddenly racing, wondering where he'd put Jensen's gun and if there was any way Jensen could kick himself free.

When Padalecki ducked his head, mouth closing around Jensen's earlobe and giving it a good, hard suck, everything else flew out of Jensen's head with a sudden, surprised moan. 

Padalecki's chuckle was dirtier that time, and Jensen was shocked at himself when he let his head fall to the side, giving more room to Padalecki's mouth. He was rewarded with the slow drag of lips and tongue down his neck, followed by a quick nip of teeth. Padalecki's hands were running down Jensen's sides, and then they stopped on Jensen's hips, holding him steady.

Jensen's earlobe was engulfed in heat again, and his cuffed hands tightened on the bars. Then Padalecki spoke into his ear, "I know who I am, Sheriff. I'm a gunslinger. I'm a killer. But I don't kill men who don't have it comin' to 'em." He rubbed his nose against the side of Jensen's neck, almost as if he was breathing him in. "And 'm not gonna kill you."

Jensen closed his eyes. "I don't know why," he said, rattling the cuffs around his wrists, "and I may be a damn fool for sayin' this, but I believe you."

"Good." A moment later, Padalecki's hands slipped under Jensen's shirt, and if he'd thought they were warm before, it was nothing like feeling them sear his bare skin. "Doesn't mean I don't want something from you, though."

Jensen was appalled to feel himself getting hard. "You already got my gun," he ground out.

"Yeah, I did. Nice piece, too." Padalecki's hips started to move in small circles, and yeah, he was definitely packing a piece of his own back there. "Maybe I can give you something in exchange for it."

"Maybe you should just take it and get the hell out of here while you can," Jensen retorted. "Since I'm not gonna stop until you're locked up in this cell where you belong."

"Right, right." Padalecki's fingers skimmed across Jensen's stomach, and he couldn't help the hitch in his breath. "So when you catch me again, are you still not gonna be able to take your eyes off me?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jensen growled.

"I think you know," he replied, little finger teasing under the waist of Jensen's jeans. "Saw you lookin' at me, Sheriff, when I was all trussed up next to your campfire. And not just 'cause you wanted to make sure your prisoner was secure."

"I don't know what you—"

"I know what a man looks like when he wants to fuck." Padalecki was right up against him now, purring right into his ear, and damn it if that drawl wasn't doing all sorts of bad things to Jensen. "But I will admit, there is a _small_ possibility I might be wrong. So tell me again that I should get outta here, and I will."

Jensen's cheeks were flaming. There was nothing he wanted more than to do just that. His job demanded it—hell, his life demanded it, if he was showing a lick of sense right now. But instead, it was only his firm grip on the cell bars that was keeping him from grinding back against Padalecki's groin. 

And he didn't say a word.

"That's what I thought." Padalecki's big hand slid up under Jensen's shirt, roaming over his chest. 

Jensen's breathing was coming faster again, but this time from something other than fear. He leaned his head to the side, and it was with a mix of relief and shame that he felt Padelecki's mouth close over the skin of his neck, licking and sucking and nipping. Then both of those feelings were drowned by the sudden, sharp sensation of Padalecki pinching his nipples. He yelped and tried to twist away, but there was nowhere to go, not with the bars of the cell in front of him and Padalecki's solid bulk behind him. 

"You're not goin' anywhere, Sheriff." One more flick, and then one of Padalecki's big hands was cupping Jensen through his jeans. He couldn't help but rub against the sudden welcome pressure, though he did manage to stifle his groan. "Yeah, you want it, don't you?" 

Jensen stood there silently as Padalecki undid the buckle of his belt, and then the buttons of his fly. His chest was heaving like he'd been running all afternoon, and if he gripped the bars he was cuffed to any tighter, he'd be leaving dents in the iron.

Then Jared's long fingers closed around Jensen's cock, and he hardly recognized the ragged moan that came out of his throat.

"Yeah, that's it." His mouth was at Jensen's ear again, the warm, wet sensation of his mouth working Jensen's earlobe in perfect counterpoint to his hand on Jensen's cock. "God, you are somethin' else. Can't wait to see you come for me."

Jensen shuddered, cuffs rattling against the bars as he pulled at them. Maybe it was the adrenaline from the chase ending and then the tables being turned, maybe it was having a guy bigger than him for once. Maybe it was how wrong it all felt, which was something he definitely wasn't planning on thinking more about later. Whatever it was, he'd never been turned on like this before, and it was only the tiny bit of pride he had left that kept him from grinding back against what was now a very impressive piece in Padalecki's pants.

Padalecki's free hand was tugging at Jensen's jeans now, pulling them down past his hips even as he continued to stroke Jensen's cock. "Wish I had more time," he muttered as he shoved Jensen's jeans down to his knees. "Wanna take my time with you, open you up, hear what the good sheriff sounds like when he's full of my cock."

Jensen groaned at that, sounding like nothing so much as one of Miz Harris's ladies of the night. He got another dirty chuckle in his ear for his efforts, followed by the sounds of Jared undoing his belt. "Instead, though, I only get to give you a taste. As it were."

"What does that—?" Jensen cut himself off at the feel of something long and hard sliding between his spread legs, right up against his balls. He looked down to see the head of Padalecki's cock poking out. "You know, I could give you a hand with that if you—"

"Shut up and put your legs together."

Jensen did as he was asked, and Padalecki groaned as he started to thrust back and forth. "Yeah, that's it," he murmured. "Goddamn bow legs of yours, givin' a man all sorts of ideas."

The pressure was eased on Jensen's wrists now that he was standing up a little taller, enough so that he could just reach the leather bracelet on his right wrist with the fingers of his left hand. He did grind back against Jared then, feeling crinkled hair against his ass, sparing a thought for how it might feel to have that huge cock inside of him instead of just between his legs.

Jared's hand was stripping him faster now, his grip tighter but slicked by Jensen's pre-come. Jensen squeezed his legs together tighter, making himself taller, and he smirked to himself at the responding groan he got. Padalecki's hips were rocking back and forth, shoving Jensen up against the bars with every thrust. He would have been complaining except that those long fingers around his dick were bringing him closer and closer. 

Jensen shifted his weight, feeling the heel of his boot knock against something on the floor. That had to be his gun. Padalecki wouldn't've stuck it down the back of his pants if he was planning on taking those pants off. And with Jensen's arms cuffed high overhead, the floor was as safe a place as any. He made note of it even as he tightened his thighs around Jared's substantial length.

Jensen wasn't getting out of this without an orgasm, and so he concentrated on the feel of Jared's hand on his dick and the way his other hand was gripping Jensen's hip tight enough to leave a mark. He'd probably be able to see that for a couple of days still, remembering that thick length nestled up between his legs, and that was what tipped him over the edge, turning his head to muffle his shout against his arm, cuffs rattling over his head as he shook with it.

"Yeah, that's it," Jared praised him, continuing to work his cock until Jensen squirmed. Then he put both hands on Jensen's hips and thrust wildly until he, too, was spraying onto the hard dirt floor. 

Jensen only had a few seconds here at best, not nearly enough to enjoy the afterglow like he wanted. He'd already managed to get a hold of the spare key fastened to his bracelet, retaining the presence of mind in the middle of everything to work it into the lock on the cuffs while the metal bracelets were shaking with Jared's thrusts. Now, one wrist was loose, and as he felt Jared draw back and rest his forehead between Jensen's shoulder blades, panting after his release, Jensen knew that this was it.

With a clatter, Jensen pulled his wrists free, dropping straight down to the floor. Padalecki's surprised yelp echoed in the small room as the loose cuff swung free and whacked him in the shin. Jensen scrabbled for the gun and finally came up with it, leaning back onto the hard-packed dirt and pointing it up at Padalecki.

The ground was cold on Jensen's bare ass, and he was pretty sure he'd landed on top of someone's spunk, but he'd never felt such glee as seeing the slowly dawning recognition on Padalecki's face that he'd been caught again.

"Back up," Jensen ordered, motioning with the gun. "Hands in the air."

Awareness changed to anger, and Padalecki abruptly stepped back, hauling his jeans up around his hips before sticking his hands in the air. "That was smooth enough I'd almost think that's what you did for a living, Ackles."

Jensen glared at him before unlocking the other cuff from his right wrist and tossing them at Padalecki. "Cuff yourself. Sit on the bunk."

He waited until Padalecki had done so before clambering to his feet, keeping a firm grip on his gun as he pulled up his pants with his left hand. "Now then," Jensen said, stepping outside of the cell and pulling the door shut with a clang. He picked up the ring of keys that had fallen to the ground and regarded his prisoner. "That's better." 

"Still say you can't hold me for long," Padalecki replied in a lazy drawl. He leaned back against the wall, belt and fly still undone, softening cock on full display. "'Sides, I still owe you something," he added with a thrust of his hips. 

Jensen tucked himself back into his jeans and ignored the way his cheeks were heating up at the thought of what his prisoner was suggesting. "Put that thing away," he said. 

Padalecki snorted, but he buttoned his fly back up, cuffed hands jangling. "You'll be back, Sheriff," he said, slouching back onto the bunk, long legs sprawling apart. "And I'll be ready for you."

Jensen only shook his head as he walked away. He certainly wasn't thinking about Padalecki's parting words. Nor was he wondering what exactly they could get up to with one of them on either side of the cell bars. 

No siree, he wasn't thinking about that at all.


End file.
